Bates Motel
by RachaelEwe
Summary: This is based on the new A&E series 'Bates Motel' Dylan Massett / OC / Norman Bates.
1. Chapter 1

**First you dream, and then you die.**

* * *

The worst smell in the world is achieved by spraying cheap perfume on clothes that reek of cigarette smoke.

The second worse smell is when you get so drunk you pass out and piss yourself.

I pinch my nose shut as I step over the body of a random man in our bathroom. I reach for my toothbrush and shove it in my book bag deciding to brush my teeth at school, my newest morning routine.

I nudge the man's shoulder with the tip of my boot out of morbid curiosity and receive a loud, disgruntled snore in return.

_Pity, a dead body in the bathroom is a much better story than a passed out drunk in a puddle of urine.  
_

I glance in the mirror, the flickering florescent bulb above me doing my appearance no favors. My pale skin looks green and eerie and my normally golden orbs appear a dull lifeless brown. I comb my fingers through my hair and shake out the knots giving me that 'I just had rough sex' look that most girls purposely go for these days. As for me, I just can't find a comb.

_I look like shit. _

_But it's okay, _

_Because everyone looks like shit in this house.  
_

Grabbing my faux leather moto jacket I slip it on over my shoulders. It's the kind of jacket that's just _so_ in style this season and suddenly every girls wearing one because we're all just posers and pathetically broke teenagers who can't afford the real thing.

_And none of us own a motorcycle. _

I look around the living room at the debris and sleeping bodies littering the small room. My mom must be in her bedroom asleep, half naked next to some random guy who probably has some form of a sexually transmitted disease.

I carefully step over the broken bottles on the floor and pocket the half smoked bag of weed still sitting on our coffee table.

_Finders keepers, I need lunch money. _

I leave the house and as if on cue Steph pulls up in a brand new convertible.

_Spoiled bitch gets a new car for her 17th birthday. What did I get? A stale piece of pizza and a bottle of antidepressants.  
_

"Nice car." I comment, hopping in the front seat and setting down my book bag. I pull out the bag of weed as we drive off and Steph side glances it with interest.

"_Shit_, I don't have any money today, I'll make Bradley buy it." She states, slipping on her fake Dior sunglasses as I turn up the radio to drown out the impending conversation.

I only ride with these girls because the walk to school is too far and they are my most loyal customers, without them I wouldn't have money for lunch each week. I'm their supplier of alcohol, drugs, and prescription medication and although they've never asked _how_ I manage to get my shit I'm pretty sure they know my back story. The whole town knows.

We pull up at the bus stop outside the old Seafairer Motel. The rest of Stephanie's friends jump in the back and I turn to face Bradley who's sitting on the lap of some boy I've never met. She's flirting like a slut while typing her phone number into his phone.

_As if dating the most popular guy in school isn't enough for her ego. _

"Hey, your boyfriends having that party this weekend right?" I interrupt, as both Bradley and the new guy look up at me. I glance over at him and our eyes lock for a brief moment as he offers me a shy smile.

"Yes! Did you get us anything for the party?" She asks excitedly, craning her neck over the seat to try to get a glimpse of what's in my lap. I hold up the bag and she grabs it quickly, opening it up and smelling it for quality. "What do you think Norman, is it good or what?" Bradley flirts, holding open the bag for him to sniff. He looks at it like a lost puppy completely clueless. He looks over at me for help as to what he should do and I can't stop myself from speaking up this time.

"She wants you to smell it, she thinks she's being cute." I reply and shy boy takes a whiff and wrinkles his nose. He forces a smile as he looks back up at the hot girl on his lap.

"Smells great." He lies and Bradley looks pleased with her new pet.

"Brad I need you to buy it this week, my moms being a bitch." Steph calls out from the front seat, looking back in the rearview mirror. Bradley pulls out her purse and pays me enough money to last me a week of food. I pocket the cash and turn my attention on the lonely road ahead of us. The gaze on the back of my neck through the entire ride to school does not go unnoticed.

* * *

It's Friday night and I'm dreading the familiar scene I'm about to face as I unlock my front door. The smoke is so thick I have to cover my nose with my sleeve as I push past the crowd in the living room and escape to the solitude of my bedroom. I ignore the cat calls and advances from men twice my age.

I open my door to find some random couple fucking on my bed and I feel the rage rising from within my chest.

_Just lovely. fucking lovely.  
_

"_Get out_!" I demand, grabbing the butcher knife I keep hidden in the top drawer of my dresser and pointing it at the couple.

_Very Michael Myers, Halloween._

"Chill out, you can use this room when we're finished. Wait your turn." The man grumbles.

"This is my fucking room, GET OUT!" I growl in disgust, lunging closer and thrusting the knife down inches away from their heads and into my mattress where it sticks.

This seems to gain their attention as he quickly gets up and buckles his jeans and they scatter like rats back into the party.

I slam my bedroom door shut and lock it behind them, getting out a duffle bag as I begin packing up as much stuff as possible.

_I'm done. _

_I can't take this bull shit anymore.  
_

I throw the bag out my window and follow carefully behind it, scaling down the two-story apartment with practiced ease.

I pull out my phone and call the closest thing to a friend I have.

"Hey did you change your mind about going to Richards?" Stephanie's annoying voice sounds through the speaker.

"Kind of, are you at the motel yet? I need a ride now." I ask as I pick up my pace and cross the street.

"On my way, I can pick you up first, see you soon." Stephanie offers. "Thanks, I owe you a case of beer." I reply, letting out a sigh of relief as I sit down on a bench.

I've been waiting for 15 minutes when my ride pulls up. I avoid small talk as much as possible and hop out as soon as we pull up to the Seafairer. I pass the boy we gave a ride to earlier this week as I make my way up the steps and towards the house perched high on the hill overlooking the old motel.

"Where are you going?" He stops to ask, clutching a calculus textbook to his chest and appearing out of breath.

"I need a room." I reply brushing past him.

"The motel isn't open yet." He calls after me but I ignore him.

I am suddenly stopped by a hand gripping my wrist, preventing me from going any further. I turn to face a pair of stormy blue eyes glistening under the glow of a nearby street lamp. He looks panicked and I raise a brow at him in confusion.

"You can't go up there, not until I get back or she'll know I snuck out." He explains and I look between him and the house, realization finally hitting me.

"_You live up there_?" I ask in surprise and the boy quickly nods, tugging on my arm.

"Come with us, we're going to the library to study. I'll talk to my mom about getting you a room when we get back." He promises.

I follow him back to the car setting down my duffle bag outside one of the motel doors.

"They aren't going to the library…" I frown as he looks back at me, confusion written on his face. Bradley interrupts him before he can speak.

"Aww you actually thought we were going to go study, how cute." She coos, stepping closer and pulling Norman into the backseat with her. I slip in next to him and our shoulders and legs touch in the over crowded vehicle. I attempt to move over when I notice Normans gaze on our touching thighs but its no use, we both are forced to give up any hope of personal space.

_I just want to get this night over with._

I mentally sigh, leaning my head back against the seat and closing my eyes.

I get the feeling I'm being watched and I open my eyes slightly.

"Do you ever stop staring at people?" I ask, my voice soft.

Norman smiles awkwardly in return.

"Sorry, I just like to watch people." He mumbles.

I allow myself to smile for the first time all day.

"You're a _creep_." I lightly tease.

He reaches over Bradley's lap to offer me his hand and I take it, noticing how big and warm his hand is in comparison to my smaller, cooler one.

_Fire and ice._

"My name is Norman Bates." He says and I find myself getting lost in his gaze, there's something so intense about his eyes, they just seem to draw you in like two black holes.

_A mystery of the universe. _

_Norman Bates is a universal mystery._

"Jen Jacobs." I introduce myself finally letting go of his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

I am being my typical antisocial self, which is ironic considering how popular I am.

_They only tolerate you because without you this party would suck. _

I am sitting on the back porch of Richard's insanely expensive condo that overlooks the pacific sea. I can hear the roar of the ocean in the distance but its too dark out to see the shoreline. It's just white noise without a view.

I am wondering when this party will be over. I am so sick of the party scene, I just want peace and quiet.

_Normal, that's what I want._

_Normal would be nice. _

Someone has just sat down next to me. I glance up at Norman Bates holding a can of beer and looking at me intently.

"This sure beats the library." I half-heartedly joke, although in all honesty that's where I'd rather be.

"Yeah…it's definitely not what I expected to be doing tonight." Norman replies, setting down his beverage.

I look out into the dark abyss, listening once more to the white noise as I let a yawn escape my lips.

"Looks like you didn't expect to be here either." Norman observes as I look back over at him.

I offer a forced smile, "I wish I could get away from this, but this is life for me."

Norman's eyes seem to see into my soul and I can't to look away, it's hypnotizing.

"You don't have to pretend like everything's okay." He replies and I chuckle bitterly.

"I'm not pretending, I'm _surviving_." I correct him looking down at my boots.

Suddenly I feel an overwhelming sense of depression and I am desperate for an escape.

"Aren't we all?" Norman answers, breaking me from my thoughts.

"huh?"

"Surviving…aren't we all?" He explains.

I stand up, pulling Norman up with me.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

* * *

I follow Norman as he scales a tree outside his window, climbing over the threshold and into his bedroom. He turns back to help me inside as I carefully climb in behind him. Once inside I scan the space, noticing a pile of cardboard boxes in the corner he has yet to unpack. I sit down on his bed. He turns to face me, unsure of where we go from here.

"Mind if I crash here tonight and you get me that motel room tomorrow?" I ask, muffling another yawn into my sleeve.

"Sure." Norman smiles nervously.

Suddenly we're interrupted by a piercing, shrill scream coming from somewhere down below us.

"NORMAN!" A female voice is yelling hysterically. Norman bolts out the door and I follow him down two flights of stairs and into the kitchen.

I stop in the doorframe, my body frozen like ice as I look upon a hairy, slob of a man thrusting into the woman handcuffed and bent over the kitchen table. Norman hits him over the head with a blunt object and he slips unconscious to the floor, his pants pooled around his knees.

"Quick, get the key!" The woman says pointing towards the fat bastard on the floor.

Norman picks his pockets and finds the key, quickly freeing the woman from her handcuffs as she grabs a nearby butcher knife off the counter.

"Mother, you're bleeding." Norman observes in complete shock.

Where am I? I am still glued to the doorframe, convinced there's no way this is really happening right now.

"Get the first aid kit upstairs." Norman's mother replies, her voice oddly calm although her hands are trembling as she clutches the weapon and points it down at her rapist.

Norman runs past me upstairs and I am left alone with his mother, who seems unaware of my presence until now.

"Do you want me to call the police?" I ask, my voice so quiet I'm not even sure if it's audible.

The woman looks over at me, and I am met with frightened baby blues.

"Who are you?" She demands, her expression quickly changing to anger.

"I'm-"

"This is Jen." Norman interrupts brushing past me and setting the medicine kit on the table.

"And what is _Jen_ doing in our house? Where were you Norman?" His mother demands.

Norman looks guilty as little beads of sweat trickle down his forehead.

"And don't lie to me, I know you weren't upstairs or you would have come to help me." She adds looking between Norman and I for an answer.

"I snuck out, went to a party with some friends, but I didn't know we were going there Bradley said we were going to the library. Mom, I'm so sorry." Norman replies now looking down at the unconscious man on the floor. "Should we call the police?" He asks nervously.

"No. No, no, no. The police won't help us…" She mumbles.

The man begins to show signs of life, sitting up and groaning. The three of us back away as he gets to his feet and staggers towards us. He looks at me and licks his lips before looking back at his original victim who's currently shoving a knife in his face.

He smirks, "_You liked it_."

Everything went to shit from there. All it took was those three little words and now there is blood _everywhere_. We're drowning in it_._ I've never seen someone stabbed before, only in the horror movies I love to watch alone in the dark. There's something numbing about watching someone die. You become detached. I am reminded of a quote from one of my favorite books,

"No matter how much you think you love someone, you'll step back when the pool of their blood edges up too close…" I'm whispering and I didn't even mean to say it out loud.

"Invisible monsters."

I look up at Norman who's looking at me and then we're smiling and then we're _laughing_. Because this entire situation is just so _fucked_ up and here we are discussing our favorite book while the pig on the floor is being butchered. The knife plunges into his flesh over and over and over and _over_.

Finally Norman snaps out of it and reaches for his mother who's going to town on this fucker like a real serial killer would.

"_Mom, stop_." Norman speaks softly and this seems to bring her out of it as she rests her hands on her knees and lets go of the knife, catching her breathe.

She finally stands up and now she is wiping off her hands getting the pigs blood all over her pretty floral apron.

"We need to get rid of the body." She is saying and her voice is so casual you'd think we were discussing the weather.

As for me, I don't even know what to say right now. My head is spinning as my pupils take in the sea of blood before me.

_So much blood. _

You don't realize how much of this stuff is in a human body until you see it pooled around your boots. _They don't teach you these things in science class_.

"It was self defense." Norman is muttering, looking up at his mother who seems to deep in thought, planning our next move.

_**Our**_ _next move._

_Because I am now involved whether I like it or not,_

_I have just witnessed a murder. _

"We will get the sheets from every room in the motel."

_Motel, that's why I'm here in the first place. _

"We will soak up all this blood and it'll be good. Yeah, everything will be fine." She is saying.

"Mrs. Bates…" I begin, gaining the attention of both family members.

"Is this a bad time to ask for a room?"

* * *

It's 2:34 am and I am on my hands and knees pulling up berber carpet in room 6 of the Seafairer Motel.

_What am I doing with my life?_

_How the hell did I get myself into this mess?_

I can hear Norman ripping up carpet in the next room, the walls are paper thin.

I am just about finished and am rolling up the carpet when a bright light illuminates the room. I look up towards the open door just as a patrol car circles the parking lot.

_Shit**.** Shit, shit, shit. _

I wipe the sweat from my forehead and use the hair tie around my wrist to pull my hair into a messy ponytail. Some delusional part of my brain associates ponytails with innocence.

_Yeah Jen, just put your hair up nice and neat and they'll never suspect a thing. _

I'm glad I left my jacket in the Bates house because at least now with my plain v-neck tee and dark skinny jeans I look like I belong here. A leather jacket would really clash against the Bates neatly ironed collared shirts.

I hear voices from outside, recognizing one of them as Norman's mother, the other two are cops.

I emerge from motel room 6 and the two cops frown at the sight of me.

My moms a local celebrity with these guys, I couldn't tell you how many times I've had to bail her pathetic ass out of jail.

"Jenny Jacobs, is that you?" Sheriff Alex Romero asks, shining his flashlight beam on my face.

I squint my eyes in the light, "_Hey Alex_, my moms not locked up again is she?" I joke attempting to keep the conversation light.

The older man doesn't look very amused, but then again he never does.

"No not tonight." He replies looking between Norman's mother and I. "You two know each other Norma?" He asks.

"Yeah, I'm a school friend of Norman's. Mrs. Bates here has been kind enough to hire me." I explain.

"Jennifer's been a great help so far, I'm hoping to have this place up and running by the end of the month." Norma adds casting the younger deputy a charming smile.

The cops eat up our story and are about to leave when Alex decides to use the bathroom. Ironically he chooses the bathroom housing the dead body. I follow behind them into motel room 5. We all stand around nervously listening to the Sheriff pissing in the bathroom as Mrs. Bates attempts to make small talk with the other officer. Norman casts me an anxious look.

They finally leave and we're able to breathe easy.

"I think you should find somewhere else to put the body." I speak up first interrupting the silence.

"We'll get rid of it tomorrow, I say we get some sleep. You two have school in the morning." Norma suggests before turning to face me a frown on her lips.

"I would like to say it's been a pleasure to meet you Jennifer, but it hasn't." She states.

"Likewise." I agree.

"I trust you know better than to speak of this to anyone since you are now involved as well?"

I force a smile, "yes, and I trust we have ourselves a deal Mrs. Bates? I'll be staying in room 6 free of charge for as long as I please." I name my price and she bitterly agrees.

"Oh, and a hot meal once a day would be greatly appreciated." I call out after her retreating form.

Once she leaves I turn to face Norman who is grinning at me in amusement.

"_You're insane_." He chuckles shaking his head in mock disapproval.

"I think she likes me." I tease, and we each laugh.

"Goodnight Jen." He says.

I close the door behind him with a soft _click_.

As much as I'd like to say I regret befriending the strange Norman Bates, I'd be lying to myself.


	3. Chapter 3

Bradley's dad crashed his Mercedes this morning outside the Bates Motel. I didn't get a good look at him but from what Norman said someone lit his ass on fire, than he proceeded to try to drive himself to the ER. I bet he smelled horrific. I once fried an inch of my hair using a cheap, metal straightener when I was 13. It smelled something awful so I can only imagine what sort of fragrance burnt flesh possesses.

This week has been so surreal. I feel like Alice except trapped in Slaughterland.

_Did we really dump a corpse in the lake last night? _

_Yep._

* * *

Emma Decody and I use to be friends before her life expectancy decreased by 50 years.

_Life's a bitch ,_

_and only the good die young. _

Her father stopped letting her come over my place when the smoke started to irritate her lungs. Her condition esculated shortly after that and the long hospital stays began to take their toll on our friendship. When she finally got better and was able to come back to school the damage was already done. Our friendship couldn't be salvaged. We were far too different with no common ground, her with her deteriorating health and protective, loving father and me with my smoke house and addict mother trying to deal with the maddening effects of deep depression. We both had our own problems, our own shit to deal with. Our cards were dealt and we both had shitty hands to play and that was that. Accept it, move on, survive.

How odd that Norman Bates would bring Emma and I together again. We finally have something in common, a mutual friend, and an English assignment due next Monday.

I'm sprawled out flat on my stomach on Norman's bed doodling in my English notebook as the three of us brainstorm ideas of where to go with this.

"Tigers." Emma is saying and I am hardly paying attention to her quirky ramblings as she goes off into total Shakespeare mode.

Even the strange Norman Bates has trouble keeping up with her.

"What does that mean exactly?" He's asking and now she is talking about Charles Manson…

"_What's this_?"

"It's nothing!" Norman's voice is rushed and holds a tone of panic that causes me to look up from my notebook.

Emma is flipping through a little black book and I sit up, easily snatching it away from her nosy, prying eyes.

"It's not nice to invade other peoples privacy, honestly where are your manners Emma?" I lightly tease, grinning at my old friend.

"_Come on_! I've read Manga alot steamier than that." She protests as I hand the book over to Norman.

"Thanks." He says, looking relieved.

"Did you draw those?" Emma continues to ask. There's no stopping Emma Decody once she's interested in something, she's obsessed.

"No, I found it in one of the motel rooms." Norman explains.

"Can I borrow it?" She asks, her big brown eyes giving him her best begging, cute puppy look.

Norman shrugs giving into her easily, "Sure." He forces a small smile handing over the book.

Once she's gone it's just Norman and I hanging out before his mother tells me to leave.

"She's going to dissect that thing." I state putting my notebook back in my bag and leaning back on Norman's bed.

I close my eyes and let out a tired sigh.

Feeling a certain boy's gaze burning into my flesh I open them back up looking over as he swallows nervously.

"Why are you so nervous around women?" I blurt out. "Are you a virgin or do vaginas just terrify you?"

Norman lets out an awkward chuckle as a blush creeps upon his cheeks.

"I'm just messing with you, you don't have to answer that." I reply, standing up and coming closer to Norman. I straddle his lap and loosely wrap my arms around his neck, brushing my fingertips against the back of his collar. "_Relax_." I whisper into his ear and I feel him shiver against me. "It's not like I'm beautiful, I'm hardly intimidating." I laugh, lightening the mood. I pull away from his earlobe deciding not to torment my new friend any further and I'm about to get up when I feel a pair of hands rest themselves against my hips, planting me in place.

Normans blue eyes seem to darken as he bravely replies, "_You're wrong_."

I feel my own cheeks getting hot and I'm not sure if it's because I am truly flattered by my friends compliment or if it's the stiffening rod I feel twitching against my upper thigh. I decide on both.

"You're beautiful and you don't even try to be." He whispers and I feel my heart swell deep within my hollow chest.

My self esteem has been shit for so, so long and here's Norman Bates picking me up, giving me attention and compliments, whispering sweet nothings as his boner rubs against a more forbidden part of me as I shift closer towards him.

_We're like some sick, demented romance novel middle-aged woman read in the dark…_

"If I kiss you, will things get weird between us?" I ask cocking a brow.

Norman licks his lips and shakes his head 'no'.

"_Good_." I mumble, carefully closing the gap between us.

His lips are warm and moist as they press against mine oh so perfectly.

I allow my eyes to flutter shut as I focus on the kiss and how good it feels. I honestly hadn't anticipated my heartbeat to race. Norman's lips do something strange to me, they put me under a spell and I can't help but wonder what it would feel like to have more of Norman Bates all over. To have him completely possess me, roam every inch of me. My tongue moves against his bottom lip and he gives me access to the rest of his mouth as our tongues move together in passion. It isn't awkward making out with Norman, he isn't as timid as I thought he'd be, infact he hardly seems nervous as his tongue explores my mouth with newfound confidence.

I'm beginning to feel really hot, like on fire hot and the fire is blinding me taking over my senses.

I have to pull away for air, although I don't want to. I notice how both of us are flushed and out of breathe. Our eyes look lustful and I find myself wanting more of him, so much more but we are forced apart when the bedroom door swings open revealing a surprised and then furious Norma.

"Get off my son." Her voice is icy cold and seems to match her chilling glare as Norman and I untangle ourselves from each other.

"It's time for dinner, you are _not_ welcome to stay." She adds, holding open the door for me to exit her sons bedroom as I grab my book bag and cast Norman a sexy smirk.

"Your sons a _great _tutor, I can feel my grades improving already." I hold back a laugh as the look on Norma's face is _priceless_.

"_GET OUT_." She yells after me, her voice shaking with rage.

I'm temptation and sin corrupting her little angel and now I face her wrath.


	4. Chapter 4

I make my way back to my shitty motel room noticing a dark figure sitting next to my door. A wisp of smoke trails out from his lips and once I'm close enough I realize it's a guy my age, maybe a few years older. His eyes have dark circles underneath them making his face look even more mysterious under the streetlights yellow glow.

"Hello?" I raise a questioning brow at the stranger while I shuffle through my pockets for my room key.

He sets down his cancer stick, flicking the ash from the tip as a pair of stunning emerald eyes lock on mine. He stands up leaning closer to me and extends his hand for me to shake. _Odd I hadn't gotten the impression of any manners coming from this guy. _

_Don't judge a book by its cover. _I remind myself.

He's saying his name is Dylan and is introducing himself as Norma's son. His hand is rough against mine and I like the friction it creates before we let go.

_Wait, did he just say he is Norma's __**son**__? _

"I didn't know Norma had another son." I state, mildly surprised. I find my key but decide to stay and chat a little longer my interest suddenly peaked. It's not like I have much else to do.

"Yeah, I'm her other son. The one she doesn't tell anyone about…" Dylan replies but his tone doesn't ask for pity, instead it's calm and cool as if stating a fact.

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name." Dylan adds as he leans back in his chair and resumes to puffing on his cigarette.

I lean against my door and cross my arms over my chest. "Jen, I'm a friend of Norman's. "I explain.

He smirks briefly, just long enough for me to catch the movement in his lips before exhaling. His eyes seem to twinkle in the dim light and are locked on me in interest.

_I guess we both find each other interesting._

_Or we're both just deathly bored. _

"We're not fucking." I clarify.

Dylan lets out a small snort of laughter, "I didn't think Norman was getting any." He admits, "Just the thought of Norma's little angel hanging around girls in general is funny, I know it's probably freaking her out."

I allow myself to grin. "Yeah she's not too fond of me being around her cherub angel, I see past the soccer mom bullshit, she's just as fucked up as I am and I think that's what scares her the most, her son hanging around someone like me. It's quite entertaining twisting the stick already stuck up her ass." I admit.

Dylan and I share a moment of laughter before I finally get out my key and put it into the lock, my hand resting on the brass doorknob.

"See you around neighbor?"

"I think I'm sticking around for a while." Dylan answers with a small smile and I wonder what brought him here in the first place but I'm not complaining. This town needs more strangers, the people here suck.

* * *

I am taking a long hot shower, letting the steam seep into my pores and rinse away the ache in my muscles from stress. I hear a noise outside the bathroom door and being paranoid I shut off the water and listen more closely.

Nothing.

I wrap my towel around my body and pull back the shower curtain. I'm face to face with Norman Bates, sweating and looking like he just ran a marathon.

"What's-" I begin but Norman cuts me off. "We need to talk Jen." He demands, his voice shaking. He doesn't look good. I step out of the tub and follow him into the next room where I sit on the edge of the bed as he paces back and forth in front of me. I shiver as the cool air hits my wet skin, and I pull my towel tighter around me for warmth.

"Are you going to talk or just walk around?" I finally ask, my voice bringing him back to reality he stops in front of me.

"That book, the one I let Emma borrow last week." He begins and I nod to show I'm tagging along.

"It was a story, about girls brought here overseas and sold into sex slavery. Emma said she knew where one of the pictures of a grave was and we went to see if it was really there, to see if the story was real."

I nod, staying silent and allowing him to continue. He's pacing again but at least he's still talking.

"We got chased by men with guns after we found a field full of marijuana so we didn't get a chance to dig up the grave but we saw a shed, the same shed from the book."

"So that's where you came from? The woods?" I ask, referring to his sweaty appearance.

Norman stops to look down at me shaking his head no. "I broke into Deputy Shelby's house tonight and I found one of the girls in his basement." He places his foot next to my thigh and lifts up his pant leg revealing a bright red handprint around his ankle. "She tried to stop me but I had to leave, he came home but I promised her I'd come back."

"So the girls from the book you found in the motel room _exist_? They are _real_?" I ask.

"Yeah, they're real and one of them is in Shelby's basement and my mom is doing things with him." Norman finally sits down next to me, placing his head in his hands.

"_Ha_, Norma's riding the town cop… he's like half her age." I chuckle.

"_Shut up_." Norman demands glaring up at me through his fingers. "It isn't funny." He scolds.

"Sorry." I shrug, the smile fading from my lips.

"He's making her do things Jen." He adds. "He's blackmailing her."

I stand up and walk over to my bag of wrinkled clothes on the floor and pull out some clean clothes to get dressed in. Norman looks away as I get dressed but we continue to talk.

"How?" I ask, sliding my cotton pj shorts over my hips and reaching down for my black lace bra.

"When that guy in the kitchen attacked her he wore this utility belt and I kept it. I kept it hidden under my bed and the police searched our house today and Shelby found it and has it somewhere in his house. That's why I broke in, to get it back."

I slip a tank top over my head and sit back down next to my distressed and possibly psychotic friend.

"I don't know why I kept it." Norman is muttering.

"Cause you're fucked up in the head." I reply. "but it's okay, we all are." I offer, pulling him into a friendly hug. He wraps his arms around me and burries his head into my neck as I run my fingers through his damp hair.

"We'll figure something out, try to chill out. If you snap and go crazy you won't be any help to her, you need to stay calm and sane." I explain softly. I feel Norman sigh into me before pulling away.

"Do you need to crash here for the night?" I ask and he considers this.

"No I don't want to bother you…"

"It's not a big deal, you can stay. It gets lonely in here." I reply honestly casting him a warm smile. He seems to lighten up a bit as he forces a small smile back. "Okay."

* * *

**The Mind of Norman Bates**

_What's wrong with me? _

I feel like I'm loosing it.

I sigh into Jen's shoulder and pull away listening to her soothing words.

_She knows the right things to say, just like Mother. _

I decide to stay a while.

I watch the way Jen's shorts ride up revealing the bottom curve of her cheeks as she bends over her bag. I lick my lips, my mouth becoming dry. She is running a hairbrush through her hair, the excess water dripping down to collect on her chest where the top of her breasts press together.

Pictures from the book flood my mind.

Blindfolds. Syringes. Handcuffs.

I feel as if I am in a trance, in between reality and nightmares.

It's no longer a sketched image on paper, it's Jennifer handcuffed to the bed me hovered over her tying a blindfold over her eyes so she can't see me looking at her. I glide my hand up her thigh and I meet the tip of her towel. I'm so curious. I need to know what is under the towel. I feel my face burning up and my heart pounding in anticipation for what's to come next. She whimpers underneath me and the bulge in my pants hardens for her.

"Norman?" her voice is beautiful to my ears like classical music.

I look up at the gorgeous girl standing over me, a concerned look on her pale features.

"You okay?" She asks and I nod swallowing hard. I notice her gaze drift downwards and I follow her trail to the proof of my arousal. I quickly push it down and adjust my pants.

Suddenly I feel a hand overtop of mine and my eyes snap back to her golden hazel ones, even in the dim light they seem to blaze with the fire and intensity of the sun.

She pushes my hand aside and I support myself leaning back slightly as her hand strokes me through the stiff fabric. I feel as if I am on fire, both embarrassed and turned on. I want to run away yet a part of me wants to stay as I feel my body melting and responding to her touch. I've never done this with a girl before but Jennifer's not just any girl, I trust her, I'm comfortable around her I remind myself.

I watch through heavy eyelids as she lifts the tank top over her head and tugs my own sweater up. I lift it over my head and allow the cool night air to hit my chest. She's straddling my waist and I can feel the heat of her against my erection.

I'm falling.

Her lips are moving against mine and it feels good. I welcome the distraction. I don't want to think about the book or the belt or Mother and Deputy Shelby. I just want to think about Jen Jacobs on top of me right now half naked.

I rest my hands against her hips and pull her against me, pressing myself against her heat. The friction makes me shiver.

I feel her fumbling with my belt and for a moment I panic. I'm about to leave but then her warm, soft hand is wrapped around my bare skin and the pleasure calms my nerves as she strokes me and moves her lips to my collarbone and suddenly we're interrupted.

TO BE CONTINUED.


	5. Chapter 5

**_I feel her fumbling with my belt and for a moment I panic. I'm about to leave but then her warm, soft hand is wrapped around my bare skin and the pleasure calms my nerves as she strokes me and moves her lips to my collarbone and suddenly we're interrupted…_**

I jump off Norman when a loud knocking on the door echoes through the room. I quickly pull my shirt over my head and look out the tarnished, yellow peephole.

"_Cops_" I mouth to Norman who looks like he's going to faint from fear. "I got to get out of here Jen." Norman replies his voice anxious, I don't blame him for being paranoid he did just break into a police officers house.

"Bathroom window, hurry." I suggest, fidgeting as I wait the longest few seconds of my life for Norman to escape the motel room. Once he's out of sight I open the door and come face to face with the Sheriff.

"Hey?" I greet the familiar hard face before me but something seems off, softer perhaps.

"Jennifer…we need to talk, it's about your mother."

* * *

Whoever came up with 'the good die young' was mistaken.

Perhaps the good _do_ die young, but a more appropriate phrase would be 'the good _and the stupid_ die young.'

"You are so fucking dumb." I whisper, looking down at the pale, ice cold face of my mother. Her eyes closed as if she is asleep but she never looked this at peace even in her worst drunken slumber. No, she does not look like she is sleeping and whoever made that comparison was mistaken as well.

She looks _dead_. There's no mistaking it, she's as dead as dead can look. Her chapped lips hold a blue tint and her hair has just begun to collect oil at the roots giving it a greasy appearance.

I pull down on the zipper of the black bag encompassing her corpse.

"I wouldn't-" Sheriff Alex warns me but it's too late.

"She was murdered." I clarify, my voice holding a bitterness and anger I hadn't expected myself to feel.

"We will find out who did this, but it's a difficult lead. Most likely a drug deal gone bad, it's not going to be easy but I assure you justice will be served in time…"

I step back from the corpse the strong iron rich scent of blood mixed with the rotting stench of death is too much for my nose to take in. I press my wrist to my nostrils in an attempt to block out the smell but it's so foul it's left a permanent imprint on my senses.

It's a smell I'll never forget.

* * *

"We all cope with death in different ways, if you need to talk to someone I can give you the card of a good psychiatrist."

"I don't need to see a shrink, I'm fine. Just wondering where I go from here?" I ask as we pull up outside the Bates Motel.

Alex turns to look at me in the back seat of the squad car, his face still serious and firm but mixed with a look of pity that makes me angry. It's a look I've gotten all my life from authority figures, sympathy, the '_you poor girl'_ look.

"Since your mother didn't have anything to leave to you and you do not have a job to pay for her funeral, her body will be turned over to the town and she will be cremated." Alex explains and I nod in agreement.

"Since you are a legal adult what you choose to do next is up to you." He adds.

"Thank you." I reply opening the door to exit the vehicle but a hand on my wrist stops me.

"Oh and may this be a lesson to you Jennifer not to follow in your mothers footsteps." Alex frowns and I shrug my arm from his grasp feeling utterly disgusted by his touch.

"_Fuck off_." I growl, slamming the patrol car door and stomping away.

I notice a familiar figure lurking next to my door in the same lawn chair as last night, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

Déjà vu.

I have a feeling this is a sight I will be seeing a lot of.

Dylan looks curiously between me and the cop car now driving off down the road but I offer him no explanation as I pretend to ignore his gaze and shove the key roughly into the lock, disappearing into my motel room.

Once inside and completely alone I allow myself to fall apart.

* * *

I haven't been to school all week and I have barely left the isolation of my motel room. Norman drops off a brown paper bag full of food outside my door once in the morning and once in the evening. I ignore his knocking and wait until he leaves to collect the food. Dylan is usually gone in the daytime and doesn't get home until late in the evening, sometimes after midnight. I've grown use to his schedule as these walls are paper thin and I have nothing else to listen to. A nosy part of me wonders where he goes, does he have a job? How does he have a job so soon? I wonder where he goes to after work on the nights he comes home around 3am. I assume to a bar in town or maybe a strip club. There's only so much nightlife in a small town like this his options are limited. On the nights he comes straight home he always does the same thing, he sits outside the door smoking and drinking by himself until he goes to sleep. He must be lonely, I know I am and I keep trying to talk myself into going outside and having a drink with him but the depression from my mother's death has left me an antisocial hermit.

_Locking yourself away in this piece of shit room isn't going to solve anything_. I mentally argue with myself.

Finally, I decide to take a shower and change my clothes and force myself to go outside, get some fresh air. _It will be good for you._

I open the door and I realize it is sometime past dinner as I nearly trip on the paper bag at my feet. I lean down and pick it up, sitting down against the wall and examining its contents.

Roast beef and mashed potatoes, luke warm with a shiny silver fork and soft fabric napkin. I unwrap the plastic wrap overtop of the china plate and dig into the meal as my stomach grumbles in satisfaction. When I'm finished I put the dirty plate, silverware and napkin back in the brown bag for Norman to pick up and take back to the house like he always does. I decide to enjoy the cool night air a little longer.

Hearing the engine of Dylan's motorcycle I glance up to see him pulling up outside, taking the helmet off his head and resting it on the seat before he comes over to me and sits on his lawn chair, pulling out a bottle of whiskey from a brown paper bag.

"Haven't seen you around neighbor, thought you might have left town. You're as quiet as a mouse in there." Dylan greets me with a boyish grin.

I allow myself a small smile but remain silent, feeling reserved from the lack of human contact in a week.

I feel Dylan's gaze on me and I finally look up into his eyes. He seems to be reading me like a book but stays silent, not pushing me to talk which I am thankful for.

"Want some?" He finally breaks the silence offering me his bottle of booze and I take it, chugging down a few gulps and allowing the fire to heat the back of my throat. I wipe my mouth with my wrist and hand the bottle back to him, his emerald eyes glisten in amusement and this time I speak.

"It's been a rough week." I offer weakly, looking away from him and instead anywhere else focusing on his motorcycle.

"You haven't been going to school. Norman told me, he keeps asking about you, wants me to check to see if you're alright. I told him that the toilet still flushes next door so you must be alive." Dylan replies casually taking a swig of alcohol.

"My mom was murdered last week. I haven't told him yet." I blurt out.

I'm not sure why I'm confiding in Dylan, maybe because he doesn't push me, maybe because he doesn't know me therefore he doesn't judge me. Either way he is the first person I've spoken to about my mothers death and I do not regret telling him because unlike Norman or the cops or anyone else he does not pity me, he doesn't even offer a condolence and this makes me like him more.

"Did they find out who did it?" He asks his face hardening slightly as I shake my head 'no' and look out into the parking lot, allowing my mind to drift off.

"They won't ever find out, they've probably closed the case. They're celebrating, somebody finally took out the town trash and now they don't have to deal with her. It's not like she was somebody important, nobody misses her, nobodies mourning her, nobodies demanding answers but I will find out who killed her. I just don't know where to begin…" I sigh.

Dylan stays quiet for a long moment and then speaks.

"Have you ever shot a gun before?"


	6. Chapter 6

Ok it's time to take a vote guys.

Do we want to see this OC end up with Norman or Dylan?

Whoever gets the least votes will get a whole new fanfic with a whole new OC for them so regardless there will be a Norman romance and a Dylan romance

I just need your opinions on who you want to see Jen end up with.

I am leaning towards Jen / Dylan but it seems some of you like the Jen / Norman pairing.

**1...2...3...VOTE!**

Next chapter I post I will have decided where I am going with this story so the opportunity to have a say in how this storyline goes is only limited to a few days. Hurry!

* * *

**Ok I lied the voting booth was only open for a few hours but the results are in. **

**I'm thinking this will be a Dylan / OC romance and I'm happy most of you agreed with me. **

**Dylan is mad sexy and I love his character, I think I have a lot to work with here. **

**Thanks for helping me decide where to go with this.**

_With Love,_

_RachaelEwe_


	7. Chapter 7

**_Dylan stays quiet for a long moment and then speaks._**

**_"Have you ever shot a gun before?"_**

* * *

My uncle Jimmy used to take me hunting when I was 10 years old. We went probably 2 dozen times before he died.

Aids.

Although Uncle Jimmy was a fag he was the best fag I've ever knew. He was the closest thing to a father figure I had and his death hit mom and I hard but I think it hit me worse.

I was young and naïve and didn't see it coming, even though he was ill I had this delusional hope that he would recover. Death was a stranger to me and Uncle Jimmy's demise was one of my first life lessons in teaching me just how unfair life can be.

'_Only the good and the stupid die young._'

I loved hunting with my uncle. I was a quick learner a bright kid and Jimmy saw this brilliance in me where nobody else had. If only the teachers at school could see the way I could shoot a gun, see me excel at something I was talented at and had a passion for. It wasn't so much the killing that I liked, actually that part always left me feeling guilty deep down. It was being _good_ at something for once, aiming and hitting my target spot on. Out here I wasn't a loser.

Who would have thought 8 years later I'd be out in these same woods hiking with my best friends older brother, accepting some shady under the table job I know nothing about.

"These are the type of woods people get killed in, in horror movies." I state my stomach in an anxious knot.

"Funny, I said the same exact thing my first time out here." Dylan chuckles pushing a fern branch out of our path and allowing me to brush past him. _Ladies first_, Dylan is a quite the gentlemen.

"It's just up ahead." He adds from behind me.

I stop at the edge of a field that I never knew existed which is shocking considering I grew up in these woods. Surely Jimmy and I would have stumbled across a giant field of marijuana during one of our many hunting expeditions. Unless he purposely avoided this location.

"Wow." Is all I can say, I am speechless.

_This can't be real, small towns like mine are not home to mobsters who have fields of weed growing in the middle the mountains. There's no way my town has this much underground action…_

"Crazy right?" Dylan states from behind my shoulder before he gently guides me to the right where I spot a lounge area. There's an Asian man and a plump white guy holding AK-47s. As we greet them they hand their guns over to Dylan and I but not before the fat one makes a few 'noobie' remarks in my direction. I ignore him thinking he should be more careful with his teasing considering I'm the one now holding a loaded gun. I bite my tongue and wait for them to leave us alone before I refocus on the task at hand.

"So our job is to guard all of this?" I ask Dylan as I begin to understand the level of shady business I am getting myself into here, but the pay is too sweet to pass up this opportunity and besides Dylan's here. It's not like I'm alone. I should be safe and if not I'm pretty sure I can handle my own.

"Pretty much, we just sit back have a few beers, eat a few sandwiches and make sure nobody messes with the pot." Dylan explains collapsing in an old recliner and opening the lid off the cooler next to it. I sit in the chair beside his placing the rifle on my lap and taking turkey sandwhich he offers me. We eat in silence and then boredom starts to creep its way in and soon we are talking.

"Why did you come here?" I can't help but finally ask the question that's been on my mind for days. Dylan fingers a hole in the wrist of his flannel shirt as he decides on how best to answer my inquiry.

"I needed money, a place to stay after I lost my job and when I came back home to Arizona my house was up for sale Norma and my brother had vanished." He replies not meeting my gaze as he continues to mess with his sleeve.

"They just up and left without telling you? Harsh." I frown.

"Yeah but that's the way it's always been, Norma and Norman in their own little world. Nobody else exists but them… So anyway, I go through hell trying to find out where they went and come to find they moved here so here I am. Norma wasn't happy to see me show up on her doorstep, I guess she thought she had finally gotten rid of me for good. That bitch has put me through so much shit, she owes me and she knows it that's why she's letting me stay in the motel." Dylan confides. "And now she's messing up my brother, she has him brain washed. He told me everything that happened to you guys that night the rapist attacked her."

I look over at Dylan, surprised Norman told him about Keith Summers. It must be really messing with his head if he was desperate enough to tell him from what Norman has told me he and Dylan are anything but close.

"You should have seen the way she went after him… I don't think she would have _ever _stopped if Norman hadn't stepped in. She would have knifed that pig until his remains looked like ground beef and then she'd probably put it in some of her expensive tuppaware and fed him to stray dogs outside the motel."

Dylan snorts out in laughter and although I was being completely serious in my accusation of Norma I realize how fucked up the whole thing sounds and soon we are both laughing together.

"I could see her doing that. She's crazy Jen, you need to get Norman away from her. He won't listen to me." Dylan frowns his jade eyes piercing into my own I nod my head. "I'll try but I doubt he'll listen to me either, he just doesn't get it. It's like he's in denial. Total mama's boy." I explain and Dylan agrees.

"So what's your story? If your mom died last week why were you living at the motel when I showed up?" Dylan changes the subject and the spotlight is now shining in my eyes.

A part of me doesn't want to tell him although I think he already knows, he's not stupid. I just can't bring myself to be completely honest with him, I don't want him to see me like everyone else sees me. '_Jenny Jacobs that poor, poor girl.' _I don't want Dylan to see me like that.

"We got in some stupid fight. I ran away." I easily lie.

I feel Dylans gaze on me and I don't look him in the eye. I feel like shit lying to him after he has been so openly honest with me about his past but it's done with and I can't take it back.

Suddenly a rustling in the bushes interrupts our conversation and we grab our weapons and jump to our feet in defense.

Dylan stands in front of me his gun pointed and finger on the trigger. I do the same from behind him having his back. A bird flies out and I shoot it down on instinct before I have time to process that it's not a threat. A beautiful black raven falls to the forest floor and Dylan and I exchange a look of relief before he grins down at me his eyes shining with admiration. "_Damn,_ _nice shot_."

* * *

When Dylan and I come home from 'work' we make our way up to the Bates house for a late dinner. I tell him Norma won't let me come within 50 feet of the house but he insists. Once inside Norma casts Dylan and I an equal glare and I'm not sure whom she dislikes more.

"Where's Norman? He isn't answering any of my phone calls." Norma demands looking between the two of us.

I shrug, "I have no idea, I thought he'd be here." I answer honestly and her accusing gaze falls on her eldest son who has a sly smirk plastered to his lips.

"He's with a girl and I hope to God he's getting laid because he deserves it for putting up with your crazy ass." Dylan replies and Norma is on him like a hawk to a mouse.

"How dare you say that? How dare you!" She screams jabbing her finger into his chest. Dylan looks unfazed by her tantrum as I stand back and witness the chaos. I grab myself and Dylan each a plate, scooping up leftovers of meat loaf and green beans while the two other adults in the room continue their bickering.

"He told me enough for me to know that he should be taken away from you!" Dylan is now yelling and Norma is saying that Norman would never say anything bad about her.

The next thing I know I hear a loud slap, followed by muffled punches and I look up to see Norma attacking Dylan but failing miserably as he easily gets the situation under control and pins her to the wall.

The doorbell rings and I pop our plates into the microwave as Norma rushes from the kitchen muttering frantically in hope that it's her cherub angel son.

"_Dinner is served honey. I've spent all day cooking for you, how was work_?" I joke, putting on my best 50's housewife impression and fluttering my lashes in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Dylan allows a small smile to appear as he steps closer and sits across from me and together we enjoy our leftover dinner.

"_Had a hard day at the office dear but this meatloaf you've prepared is delicious just like you_." He plays along.

"_Oh sweetheart, you make me blush_!" I add a feminine giggle for effect.

Red and blue lights reflect into the kitchen from outside the window and we look up just in time to see Norma being escorted into a cop car.

"I think your mom just got arrested…" I state my voice holding mild interest before I turn back to my plate of food.

"Who cares?" Dylan replies bitterly taking a slightly violent bite of his food and chewing it with hatred.


	8. Chapter 8

The wind is blowing through my hair tangling the brunette strands. I press my thighs tightly together against the seat and slowly begin to let go, lifting out my arms like a bird. I feel so free. I feel so alive.

Dylan turns back to briefly look at me when he feels me let go of his waist. He casts me a grin before turning his eyes back on the road ahead of us.

"Hold on." He playfully warns. Suddenly we're going faster and faster and I feel the front of the bike being lifted off the ground.

Letting out a girlish squeal I wrap my arms tight around Dylan's chest and hold onto him for dear life as we pop a wheelie.

"_Slow down_!" I laugh into Dylan's ear.

He doesn't listen and instead speeds up more.

Suddenly we hear a police siren behind us and I cock my head back to see a patrol car speeding after us.

Dylan curses as he brings the bike to a stop and we wait for the officer to approach us.

Deputy Zach Shelby takes off his sunglasses and looks down on us with a smug smirk on his face. I feel Dylan tense up under my fingertips and I realize I'm still hugging onto him tightly. I let go and lean back, resting my palms on my seat.

"Is there a problem officer?" Dylan asks calmly.

"Are you aware of how fast you were going? 90 in a 45 zone." Shelby states before locking his eyes on me. "Jacobs is that you?"

"How's my mother's murder case coming along Shelbs?" I reply coolly, knowing he'll give me some bullshit recited response.

"We're looking into it."

_Yeah right you are, you bastards._

"I'm going to have to write you a ticket." He turns back to face Dylan, he hands him a ticket for $250.

"Don't I get a warning first? After all you're screwing my mom." Dylan replies and Shelby lets out a low chuckle.

"Doesn't work that way. Tell Norma I said hi."

As he walks away Dylan crumbles up the ticket and shoves it in his coat pocket. We take off back to the motel.

* * *

"What an asshole." I complain, casting Dylan a sympathetic look.

Dylan takes a seat on the porch and I follow next to him.

"Yeah what a douche bag." He agrees lighting up a cigarette.

I begin to run my hands through my tangled hair in an attempt to tame the knots.

"Did Norman tell you about the Chinese chick in his basement?" I ask casually.

Dylan nods his head. "I don't trust that cop."

Silence engulfs us for a few moments, as we're each absorbed in our own thoughts. I am the first to break the silence, my mother's murder on my mind.

"So how is this job suppose to help me find my moms killer?" I inquire pulling my knees to my chest.

"Well it looks like you've dropped out of high school and you have no place to live so the first step is getting you a decent job. Now that that's done we can focus on your mom. I think I know a guy who might be able to help you figure out exactly who did it. He seems to know a lot about how this town _really_ works." Dylan explains.

"Great. When can I talk to him?" I immediately reply eager for answers.

"Tonight if you want, I'll call him up." Dylan gets out his cell phone and scrolls through his contacts, I peer over his shoulder as he selects someone by the name of Ethan.

* * *

We've just picked up pizza and are headed over to Ethan's house to eat it. I hop in the back seat of his pick up truck with the food next to me.

Ethan seems like a nice enough guy. I get the vibe of wealth when he hands Dylan $5,000 cash in a brown paper bag.

I also discover he is generous, as he tells Dylan he's lending him the money to help him get an apartment for him and his brother. I didn't even know Dylan was considering moving out of the motel but I guess after Norma's arrest for murder he'd want as far away from her as possible. I wonder how he got Norman to agree to move out with him.

We haven't told Ethan why we've met him for pizza yet, Dylan said we'd talk once we get back to his house and I am more anxious than ever for answers.

_I'm so close._

For once in my life somebody may be able to help me out instead of making my life more difficult.

I have hope in finding out who my moms killer is and Ethan is my key.

Suddenly a gun shot rings out and my first thought is Dylan.

_Dylan got shot. Dylan is dead. _Fear hits me like a brick wall.

Then my shoulder is on fire and I am grabbing at the fabric of my hooded jacket and when I remove my hand there is bright crimson blood.

_Correction, I got shot._

Blood is gushing from the front passenger seat reminding me of when a pipe in the kitchen sink burst and our entire apartment flooded. Ethan has taken a bullet wound to the neck and the evidence is spraying everywhere. He's going to die and with him any hope of solving my moms murder I realize and suddenly I'm more panicked about him, a total stranger, than myself.

"Jen hold this against his neck while I drive." Dylan demands. I wince against the pain in my shoulder that ignites when I lift my arm but I fight through it, knowing Ethan's life is at stake and I have to do this. _He can't die, he's too valuable._

I hold the rag against his wound as Dylan speeds off like a maniac towards the hospital.

"_Don't die on me. Stay with me_." He is saying.

We pull up on the steps of the ER and Dylan grabs Ethan and carries him inside while I wait in the back seat. I should probably seek medical attention but I don't have health insurance and I don't have the money. _I'll be fine_. I reassure myself. _It's just a small hole._

When Dylan comes back he takes note of how ghostly pale my face is and the beads of sweat forming on my forehead. I am clutching my shoulder with my right hand and my eyes are closed tight as I try to mentally fight my way through the pain.

"Jen what's wrong?" Dylan asks, his voice seriously concerned.

"Nothing, just my shoulder, no big deal." I mumble and I feel Dylan's rough hand cover my own and pull it away so he can get a closer look. "You got shot? Why didn't you tell me?" He asks incredulously and I explain the situation and how the ER is not an option right now.

Dylan doesn't argue with me and we drive back to the motel.

He helps me inside his room and guides me toward his bed while he goes in the bathroom to get medical supplies.

The room is starting to spin and I feel as if I'm going to throw up.

"_Hurry_." I groan.

Dylan doesn't think twice before cutting off my jacket and t-shirt leaving me in just my bra. I feel no shame and could care less; all I want is for him to get this damn bullet out of my arm.

He's warning me and then I am clenching my jaw in pain as I feel him cutting into my flesh in order to remove the foreign object from my skin.

It seems to last for hours, the pain, and I'm starting to get spots in my vision so I close my eyes to make them go away.

"I think I'm going to pass out." I state, my voice weak.

"I'm almost done Jen, hang in there." He encourages as he pours peroxide over the wound.

"I need to stitch you up, it's going to hurt like hell but after that the pain is over, I'm almost done." He tells me and I lean my head into his shoulder feeling too tired to sit up on my own.

"Here, bite this. It'll help." Dylan shoves one of his t-shirts into my mouth.

I feel every single stitch as he sews me up and it is excruciating to say the least. I bite down on the fabric between my teeth and I feel my body starting to shake.

It's all over in a few minutes and Dylan takes the t-shirt from my mouth and washes the wound one last time before wrapping it up in gauze. He helps me lay down and gets a cold washcloth for my forehead. I feel like I've just been to hell and back but I'm alive and Dylan is a damn good doctor. He covers me up and I feel exhaustion take me under as my world goes black.


End file.
